The Kodachrome Epiphany
by Frohike
Summary: Frohike plays cupid for Mulder and Scully.


The Kodachrome Epiphany  
  
Author: Frohike  
Email: frohike51@aol.com  
Rating: PG, for some minor language  
Distribution: Ask first, but I haven't turned anyone down yet.  
Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be. All credit for these fine  
characters belongs to Chris Carter; what happens to them in this story  
is entirely my fault.  
Feedback: Yes, please.  
  
This was written for the 1st Annual Reader's Day Challenge on Beyond  
the Sea. Elements are listed at the end of the story.  
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
Headquarters of the Lone Gunmen  
5:45 PM  
  
Frohike leafed through his collection of Scully photos and sorted them  
into three categories, using the squares on his quilt as dividers. In  
the blue square were pictures that were slightly out of focus and/or  
terribly unflattering. Very few photos fit into that category thanks  
to his talent with a camera and the fact that unflattering and Scully  
were words rarely found in close proximity. The second category, in  
the white square, consisted of photos of her with Mulder. In the blue  
and white striped square he placed photos of Scully, by herself.  
Candid shots all, none of those posed, artificial stances; nothing but  
honest moments in time, captured for all to see. Well, not for all to  
see, these pictures were intended for a single individual. One  
stubborn, butthead of a man who didn't seem to recognize what a good  
thing he had waiting for him if he'd only tuck away his insecurities  
and try living for the here and now.  
  
He traced a finger along his favorite picture and sighed. "You'd  
better start paying attention to what you're being offered," Frohike  
muttered, "or someone else is likely to steal her out from under you."  
Instead of placing this particular photo with the other Scully  
candids, Frohike slipped it under his pillow. Mulder could have all  
the others, this one was his.  
  
He put the Scully-only photos into the right pocket of the green  
folder, then put the Mulder/Scully photos into the left pocket of the  
same folder. He gathered up the small stack of unacceptable shots with  
the intention of shredding them to save both Scully's dignity and his  
reputation as a photographer.  
  
He slid off the bed, feeling a sharp pain and hearing a distinct  
snapping sound when his foot hit the floor.  
  
"Shit," he muttered, as he grabbed the side of the bed for support.  
"Goddamned bed risers!"  
  
Two days ago, Byers had insisted on putting the beds on twelve-inch  
risers to increase storage space in all three of their tiny bedrooms.  
That was all well and good for men of Byers's and Langly's height, but  
being only five foot three, the added inches meant the difference  
between being able to slip in and out of bed comfortably and needing a  
damned step stool to crawl under the covers at night. He'd complained  
to Byers at the time, but John didn't quite seem to fully grasp the  
extent of the problem.  
  
'Same damn thing with the toilet paper in the bathroom,' Frohike  
thought. 'I always put the roll on with the paper hanging over the  
front, while they put it on, when they bother to replace it at all,  
with the paper hanging down the back.' That extra two to three inches  
gained by hanging the paper over the front of the roll was just enough  
to allow his ass to remain fully on the seat. This, however, was not  
something he'd ever bothered to share with the others. Instead, he  
simply rehung the roll and ignored Langly's odd taunt about his being  
anal retentive in the toilet paper department.  
  
He shook his head to clear out the petty annoyance before daring to  
look down at his now throbbing ankle. "Oh crap!" he exclaimed. The  
entire foot and ankle were swollen. He tried to put a little pressure  
on the foot. Big mistake. The resulting wave of pain sent him  
crashing to the floor. The stack of pictures, once clasped tightly in  
his hand, was now in a pile beside him.  
  
Langly heard Frohike cry out and hurried back to check things out. He  
knocked on the door.  
  
"Frohike? You all right?" he asked, not waiting for an answer before  
opening the door. "Oh shit!" Langly yelled for Byers, then knelt  
beside Frohike. "What happened?"  
  
Frohike groaned. "Fell off the bed. I think my ankle's broken."  
  
Langly looked down at his friend's foot. "Geez, Mel!"  
  
Byers ran into the room and saw his partners on the floor. "What's  
going on? What happened?"  
  
"Took you long enough," Langly said. "Call Scully. I think his ankle  
snapped."  
  
"What? How?" Byers asked.  
  
"Your freakin' bed risers, that's how!" Frohike growled.  
  
Byers frowned and folded his arms across his chest. "If you'd let me  
buy you that step stool, like I offered in the first place. . ."  
  
"Cut it out!" Langly yelled. "Look, call Scully and get her over  
here, will ya?"  
  
Byers nodded and left the room.  
  
"Man, this looks really bad," Langly said. "You ok everywhere else?  
I mean, does anything else hurt?"  
  
"Only my pride," Frohike grumbled. He looked to his left, saw the  
photos and picked them up. "Go shred these for me before Scully gets  
here."  
  
Langly took the pictures from his friend's hand. "You're really gonna  
go through with this?"  
  
"You saw her when she thought she'd lost him to Diana. She's finally  
ready to admit that she feels something for Mulder, but she's too  
damned stubborn to do anything about it." He tried to shift positions  
on the floor, but only managed to send shockwaves of pain through his  
body. Frohike bit the inside of his cheeks to keep from screaming.  
  
"Oh, that had to hurt," Langly said.  
  
"Will you just go shred those things already?" Frohike asked.  
  
"Yeah, be right back." Langly got up and left the room, bumping into  
Byers at the door.  
  
"Hang on, let me take a look," Byers said into the receiver. He knelt  
down by Frohike's foot and frowned. "Yes, it's purple and swollen to  
at least twice its normal size." He listened, then looked at Frohike.  
"Scully wants to know if you heard a snap or a popping sound when you  
hit the floor?"  
  
Frohike nodded. "There was a definite snap."  
  
"He said there was a definite snap." Byers glanced at Frohike again.  
"I was afraid of that. We'll meet you there in a few minutes.  
Thanks, Scully. Bye."  
  
"We'll meet her where?" Frohike asked.  
  
Byers put the phone down on the bed. "Hospital," he answered. "She  
says it sounds like you might have broken your ankle. We need to get  
you to the emergency room and have it x-rayed to be sure."  
  
George Washington University Hospital  
7:03 PM  
  
Scully grabbed a wheelchair and hurried to the entrance as soon as she  
spotted the boys. Byers and Langly were on either side of Frohike,  
helping to support his weight. Frohike was obviously experiencing a  
great deal of pain.  
  
They helped him into the chair, then Scully took over, wheeling him  
back to the reception desk in the waiting room. The nurse buzzed the  
door open, allowing Scully to head back to an examining room.  
  
"No paperwork?" Frohike asked. "No waiting? How'd I rate the VIP  
treatment?"  
  
"They know us here," she said, giving him a smile. "Mulder finished  
most of the paperwork and he'll have Byers fill in the gaps." Scully  
drew the curtain, put on a pair of latex gloves, then knelt down to  
look at his foot. "I don't think there's any doubt that you've broken  
it." She stood, picked up a syringe from counter, pushed up his  
sleeve and wiped a small area of his upper arm with alcohol.  
  
"What's that?" Frohike asked, staring at the needle.  
  
"Just a little something to ease the pain," she answered. "Unless  
you'd rather continue to suffer."  
  
"No," he answered quickly. "Make it a double, ok?"  
  
"Let's start with this for now," she said. "I think you'll find it  
sufficient."  
  
Headquarters of the Lone Gunmen  
9:37 PM  
  
Scully walked around to the opposite side of the car and handed  
Frohike his crutches. He was still a little out of sorts, a  
combination of the shock to his system and the residual effects of the  
shot Scully had given him earlier.  
  
Mulder met them at the door, holding it open wide so that Frohike  
would have plenty of room to maneuver. Frohike thought he caught  
something in the way Mulder looked at him. Anger? He couldn't be  
sure, but he definitely felt a cold breeze as he slipped past Scully's  
partner.  
  
Frohike moved slowly down the hall toward his bedroom. He was not  
looking forward to having to climb up into his bed in front of Scully  
or Mulder. It was embarrassing enough that they knew he'd broken his  
ankle by falling off the bed, but having to climb in like a small  
child was adding insult to injury.  
  
As he entered his room, the first thing he noticed was the balloon  
bouquet on top of his dresser. Then he spotted the ones on the floor,  
the wall and even the loose balloons bumping the ceiling over his bed.  
Thirty Mylar and latex, helium-filled green, yellow, pink and purple  
balloons, in all. He inched closer to the balloon bouquet on his  
dresser to read the writing on a purple latex balloon. "Mardi Gras?"  
he asked.  
  
"It was either these or a dozen "It's a Girl" balloons," Langly  
explained. "They were out of helium and these were the only ones  
already blown up."  
  
"They're quite, festive," Scully said. "But for now, I think you need  
to enjoy them from a horizontal position."  
  
The moment of truth was at hand. Frohike turned away from the dresser  
and hobbled over to his bed. It took a minute to register that the  
bed was back to its normal height. He glanced over at Byers, who  
shrugged.  
  
"Mulder helped me take the risers down," he said. "We thought that  
maybe some shelves would be better in here."  
  
Frohike smiled and sat down on his bed.  
  
"All right everyone, out," Scully ordered. "Frohike needs to get some  
sleep." She shooed everyone out of the room. "Can I get you  
anything? T-shirt? Pajamas?" she asked, pointing at his dresser.  
  
"Yeah, pajamas are in the second drawer," he answered. He thought a  
moment, then stopped her. "Wait, better make it sweat pants," he said.  
"I don't think the pajama legs are going to fit over the cast."  
  
Scully put back the pajamas and pulled out a well-worn pair of grey  
sweats and a t-shirt. She put them on the bed next to him. "Need any  
help getting into these?"  
  
Frohike shifted on the bed. "Scully, in the hospital I can see you as  
a doctor, but we're not in the hospital anymore."  
  
"And this makes you uncomfortable," she said, finishing his thought.  
"I'll send in one of the boys."  
  
Frohike breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks. For everything."  
  
Scully smiled at him, then turned and left the room, closing the door  
behind her.  
  
Frohike changed out of his shirt and into the t-shirt she'd put on the  
bed. He removed his remaining shoe and sock, then set about taking  
off his pants. Getting the uninjured leg out of the pants wasn't a  
problem, but he found he had to shred the rest of the other pant leg  
to allow enough room for the cast to pull through. By the time he  
finally pulled on his sweats, he was sweating and exhausted. He fell  
back onto his pillow, not bothering to get under the covers.  
  
A few minutes later, he heard a knock on the door.  
  
"Come in," he said.  
  
Byers entered the room, then closed the door. "Scully said you needed  
help?" he asked, seeing Frohike in fresh clothing.  
  
"Nah, I managed on my own. Thanks."  
  
"There's a minor, situation, with Mulder," Byers began. "He's a bit  
unnerved by something he found in here."  
  
Frohike closed his eyes. "You mean he's pissed about the pictures," he  
said. "I thought I felt a chill in the air when I got home." Another  
thought occurred to him and opened his eyes again. "He hasn't said  
anything to Scully, has he?"  
  
"No, but I think you better speak to him before he does." Byers  
started to leave the room, then turned back. "For the record, I think  
you're doing a good thing, Mel. It may not be perfectly executed, but  
your heart is in the right place."  
  
Frohike chuckled. "Thanks, you might want to remember that for the  
eulogy."  
  
Byers laughed quietly as he left the room.  
  
Mulder came into the room moments later. He opened the drawer of the  
nightstand next to Frohike's bed, pulled out the green folder and  
tossed it on the quilt. "Start talking."  
  
"You're thinking that I've been sneaking around in the bushes taking  
surveillance photos of you and Scully for some nefarious purpose,"  
Frohike said, looking Mulder square in the eyes.  
  
"Until you prove otherwise, yeah, that's what I'm thinking," Mulder  
answered.  
  
Frohike shrugged. "Well, you're right." He paused, taking in  
Mulder's shocked expression. "Are you going to shoot me now or do I  
get a chance to explain?"  
  
Mulder gestured for him to go on.  
  
"You might want to sit down first."  
  
Mulder remained standing and staring.  
  
"Ok." Frohike opened the folder, removed the Scully pictures and  
fanned them out on the bed. "There. Tell me what  
you see."  
  
"I see Scully being photographed without her knowledge,"  
Mulder answered.  
  
"Yeah, but what do you see?" Frohike asked again.  
  
"She's outside, taking a walk," Mulder answered. "So what?"  
  
"For Christ's sake man, look at her face! Does she seem happy to  
you?" Frohike was rapidly approaching exasperation. "Some  
freakin' profiler you are!"  
  
Mulder stepped a little closer and picked up a picture. He put it  
down and began to really look at all of the photos spread out on  
the bed. "She looks sad," he conceded. "Lonely."  
  
"Exactly! She's at the park on a beautiful, sunny day and she  
looks like she doesn't have a friend in the world," Frohike said.  
He gathered up the pictures and put them back into the green  
folder.  
  
"What are you doing?" Mulder asked.  
  
"Hold your horses, I'm tryin' to make a point," Frohike  
answered, as he took the pictures from the left pocket of the  
folder and spread those out on the bed. "Now look at these and  
tell me what you see. And if you say you see pictures of you and  
Scully being photographed without your knowledge, I'll put my cast up  
your ass."  
  
Mulder's fingers skimmed over the photos before choosing one. He  
lifted it up and looked at the smile on Scully's face. He turned his  
attention to the other shots and noticed that while she wasn't smiling  
in all of them, there was an aura of contentment about her.  
  
"She looks happy. What's your point?" Mulder asked, even though he had  
a pretty good idea where this was going.  
  
Frohike closed his eyes and willed away the urge to throttle Mulder  
and call him a butthead to his face. His foot was throbbing and now  
this conversation was beginning to make his head hurt. Maybe it was  
time to be blunt and get this over with. He opened the folder, rifled  
through the pictures until he found the one he needed. He chose  
another from the pile on the bed and put the two next to each other.  
"These were taken on the same day. This one," he said, tapping the  
solo Scully shot, "was taken about fifteen minutes before you showed  
up." He pushed the picture closer to Mulder. "This was taken about  
fifteen minutes after you showed up." He pushed that one over to  
Mulder as well and waited for Mulder to say something. When he didn't  
Frohike continued. "All right, let's make this simple," he said.  
"Without Mulder, sad. With Mulder, happy. And, if you take a good  
look at all of these pictures, you'll see that you're happy, too."  
  
Mulder took his eyes off the pictures and just stared at Frohike.  
  
"Jesus, man! Do you need me to spell it out for you?" His voice  
rose. "The woman is crazy about you! She's come close to saying it  
out loud to me, Byers and Langly and she's all but screaming it at you  
in these pictures. What I don't get is why you're not seeing it.  
You're crazy about her, she's crazy about you, but neither of you is  
willing to take a risk and say it out loud."  
  
Scully appeared in the doorway. "Say what out loud? Why are you  
yelling at Mulder?"  
  
Frohike made an effort to cover the pictures, but Scully reached the  
bed before he could.  
  
She looked at the pictures, then from Frohike to Mulder. "What's  
going on? Where did these come from?"  
  
"I took them," Frohike said. "They're pictures of two people too  
stupid to admit how much they love each other. I thought that maybe,  
just maybe, if I confronted one of these stupid people that he might  
finally have the courage to do something about it. I hoped I might  
trigger a, I don't know, a Kodachrome epiphany, maybe."  
  
"A Kodachrome epiphany?" Mulder and Scully said in unison.  
  
"It's been a long day," Frohike explained. "That was the first thing  
that came to mind."  
  
Scully walked over and stood beside Mulder. She contemplated a few of  
the pictures, then glanced at her partner. "Maybe we should talk,"  
she said to Mulder.  
  
Mulder looked at her, the beginning of a smile forming. "Maybe we  
should."  
  
"Good!" Frohike exclaimed. The tension finally drained from his body.  
He felt like he was melting into the pillow. "Now get the hell out  
of here so I can get some rest."  
  
"Go on," Scully said to Mulder. "I want to clear these off the bed  
and check his foot before I leave. See you at my place?"  
  
Mulder smiled and nodded. "Don't be long."  
  
Scully gathered the pictures and put them in green folder with the  
others. She started to put them in the drawer, but Frohike stopped  
her.  
  
"You keep them," he said.  
  
She put the folder on top of the nightstand and walked to the end of  
the bed to check Frohike's foot. "Everything looks good," she said.  
"You can take something for pain after eleven, if you need it."  
  
"Look, Scully, about the pictures."  
  
She moved back to where she had been before and put a hand on his  
head. "They're beautiful," she said. Scully bent over and kissed him  
gently on the forehead. "Thank you," she whispered. "Sleep well."  
  
He closed his eyes. I will now, he thought, I will now.  
  
Challenge elements  
1. Bed Risers  
  
2. Mardi Gras  
  
3. Optional: "That" (first time sex, pairing of your choice) {Implied,  
but not stated outright. I did deliver a first (and last)  
Frohike/Scully kiss. *g*}  
  
4. Optional: Frohike with a folder full of Scully candids he has to  
explain  
  
5.A helium balloon 


End file.
